


All That Heaven Will Allow

by lotspot



Category: Mozart l'Opéra Rock - Mozart/Baguian & Guirao
Genre: Angels, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 19:32:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14625534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotspot/pseuds/lotspot
Summary: Mozart comes back to earth as an angel. Salieri doesn't believe he's real.





	All That Heaven Will Allow

**Author's Note:**

> You know i just. Rly. Like. Angels.  
> Wings? They're gooood. 
> 
> Thanks to john for really just reigniting my hunger for wingfic
> 
> Title from a springsteen song as usual no one is shocked.

The first time Mozart appeared Salieri didn’t even think twice about it.

It was at the funeral. Salieri stood in the snow by the graveside. His tears fell silently onto the fresh dirt that now covered Mozart’s body.

  
“I wish you’d known how much I loved you.”

Salieri was whispering to no one.

Everyone else had left when the service ended. That was an hour ago. This was a secret for just him and the cold earth at his feet. It wasn’t until he looked up that he saw him. He was standing opposite Salieri on the other side of the grave. His whole being seemed to glow and Salieri could see the faint outline of a halo curved around his head. He seemed to be studying Salieri and Salieri stared straight back at him as golden tears started to trickle down Mozart’s face.

  
Not a single word was spoken.

  
Salieri was the first to break eye contact. When he looked back up Mozart was gone. Salieri chalked it up to his grieving mind and left the graveside.

*

But it happened again. Salieri was doing nothing special. He was just composing. He swore as he played a wrong note and started to scribble on his paper.

  
“You’d be better throwing in an imperfect cadence there. Just to shake it up.”

  
Salieri swore again and scrambled to stop himself from dropping his composition. He looked up and saw Mozart draped across the top of his piano.

  
There was a silence where Mozart watched him. Salieri just stared open mouthed.

  
“You’re not really here.”

  
Mozart rolled his eyes. He hopped off the piano and came to sit next to Salieri on the piano stool.

  
“I am, Antonio. You can see me can’t you?”

  
Salieri let out a bitter laugh. “Sure like that means anything. My grief addled mind also conjured you up at your graveside so”

  
Mozart laughed. Oh Salieri had missed that laugh. It shot straight through his soul. It stopped too soon as Mozart carried on talking.

  
“No I was really there as well.”

  
“Yeah my brain would say that wouldn’t it.”

  
Mozart looked at him with a kind of puzzled desperation. “Look at me Antonio. I am here. I am an angel now but I am still here.”

  
Mozart closed his eyes and wings unfolded from his back.

  
Salieri felt tears spring to his eyes as he laughed bitterly again. “Oh if I could take a knife to my subconscious right now I would not hesitate. An angel? Really? Way to go on the subtle metaphors brain.”

  
Mozart folded his wings back and made a noise of frustration as he sat heavily back on the piano stool next to Salieri. “What do I have to do to convince you?”

  
Salieri looked at him with even more confusion.

  
“You won’t.”

  
Mozart looked at him for another 2 seconds before disappearing again. Salieri was left on his own in silence again. He sighed and turned his attention back to his composition. His pen hovered briefly above the paper before he gritted his teeth and wrote in an imperfect cadence.

*

For the coming weeks Mozart appeared whenever Salieri needed him.

He helped him with compositions, the household chores, sometimes he just walked him home. It took a couple of days for Salieri to accept this new presence in his life but every time Mozart laughed Salieri’s heart broke a little more. He would give anything to have Mozart back with him for real. Maybe if a hallucination of a grieving mind was all he could get he should just take it. So he did.

  
Mozart never appeared when there were other people around but he didn’t always look like an angel. He mostly just appeared wearing his normal clothes. Sometimes Salieri could see his wings and halo, sometimes he couldn’t.

He always glowed slightly but Salieri knew in his heart that that meant nothing. Mozart had always glowed slightly when Salieri saw him. Sometimes when Salieri was really desperate, Mozart would appear at the back of a crowd briefly as a small comfort but never if he was in a room with less than about 100 people.

  
Salieri would be lying if he said he didn’t start to view his hallucinated Mozart as his guardian angel. Losing Mozart had pushed him severely off track. Having him back helped him carry on. It wasn’t what Salieri would call the healthiest or most sustainable coping mechanism but it would do. It had to do.

*

Salieri pulled the cravat tight around his neck and sighed.

  
“You look so handsome Antonio”

  
Salieri sighed. Of course Mozart would appear now. And flirting with him? His brain was really out to get him. Well he had nothing to lose.

  
“Thank you maestro. I always felt purple was more your colour but I think I can make it work for one night.”

  
Mozart chuckled behind him. Salieri’s breath hitched as he felt what could only be Mozart’s hand slide into his from behind him. Oh these hallucinations were getting far too heavy. Maybe he should get help. But then Mozart was in front of him and he was far too close for Salieri to deny himself this.

  
“I heard what you said at the grave you know. Why didn’t you tell me when I was mortal?”

  
Salieri brought a shaky hand up to Mozart’s cheek. He was terrified that if he tried to touch him Mozart would vanish under his fingers.

  
But he didn’t.

  
Salieri’s hand came into contact with warm skin. The only difference in Mozart’s skin is that Salieri could feel a gentle hum underneath it, like there was a very low voltage of electricity pulsing through him. But everything else felt real. Human. Alive.

  
Salieri wanted to cry. “I couldn’t. I was a coward and I couldn’t. I wanted to every day. I figured that even if by some miracle you wanted to be with me, you’d find out I ruined your career sooner or later and I figured it was significantly less painful to have you hate me without knowing me as opposed to having my heart broken.”

  
Golden tears started to pool in Mozart’s eyes. “You didn’t have to carry that alone. I forgave you a long time ago. I would have stood by you.”

  
Salieri let out a wracked sob. He pressed a kiss to Mozart’s lips. It was electric. Mozart's lips were warm. He cherished the feeling however short it was. God it felt so real. “I don’t think I can have you in my life anymore. I will find a therapist tomorrow. This is too real. I thought maybe I was healing but I think it’s breaking my heart even more.”

  
Salieri turned his back on Mozart and walked out the door. It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

 

He collected himself in the carriage. Thank god for Masquerade balls.

  
He plastered on a smile and fastened the mask in place. He greeted everyone amicably and took his usual place on the side-lines. No one questioned him. He sipped slowly at his drink and watched the festivities.

One dancer caught his eye. He was making his way round all the women of court. He danced with such excessive flourish and confidence it made Salieri laugh a little. The women seemed to enjoy it though. They blushed and swooned as he bowed and kissed their hands. He wore an all black tuxedo and a full face mask. Salieri studied him from a distance. He couldn’t shake the sense of familiarity.

  
Another dance finished and the dancer bowed to his most recent dance partner and the penny dropped.

  
He bowed like Mozart.

Salieri felt sick to his stomach. He was brought back down to earth by the clattering of his goblet on the floor. The crowd turned to stare at him, muttering amongst themselves. All of them besides him. The mystery dancer looked straight at him and, without breaking eye contact once, walked over to him.

  
“So maestro,” he held out his hand for Salieri to take, “May I have this next dance?”

  
Salieri didn’t have time to think about what people might think of him. He took the outstretched hand. He felt that same electric buzz from before. When he looked into the dancer’s eyes he saw the same ones looking back as before. The hand he was holding was undeniably and unmistakably Mozart’s.  
But he had danced with nearly every single person in the room.

  
They could see him.

  
They could touch him.

  
Mozart was _real_.

  
_Everything had been real._

  
Mozart pulled Salieri onto the dance floor as the band struck up the next dance. They moved slowly but perfectly in sync.

  
“You are not in my head.”

  
Mozart tilted his head. Salieri couldn’t see his expression through the mask.

  
“I told you so.”

  
There was a moment of silence as they danced.

  
“So an angel huh?”

  
There was a low chuckle from behind the mask. “Believe me I was shocked too.”

  
“Why did you come back?”

  
“For you of course.”

  
Salieri didn’t answer. He just let that hang there. Mozart was real. Mozart was real and he had given up eternal paradise to come back to earth to be with Salieri. All this time he’d been real. All those hours spent mindlessly going over compositions and discussing the goings ons of court. Hours of walking through parks in the twilight just talking. That had all been real. Salieri was at a loss for words. He settled on the only thing he could think of.

  
“Thank you.”

  
Mozart nodded. “You’re welcome.”

  
They finished the dance in silence and Mozart bowed again and, as with all the women, He pressed the lips of his mask briefly to Salieri’s hand. Salieri fought back the breath of a smile.

  
“Black never was your colour.”

  
Mozart looked down at his outfit. “Well I thought since you were wearing purple... we should match. It’s like we switched! And besides, every colour is my colour Antonio.”

  
Antonio couldn’t see Mozart’s eyes well enough to know if he’d just winked at him but he knew Mozart well enough to guess that he probably had.

  
“Maybe we should both change into something we are a little more comfortable in.”

  
Mozart’s grip on Salieri’s hand tightened slightly.

  
“I think that’s a great idea Maestro. Lead the way.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Its all good!! Theyre happy!!! Find me at probably-pride-related on tumblr!


End file.
